


3. Just Think of Me

by yeshomodean



Series: What Do You Want From Me? [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Closeted Dean, Dean-Centric, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Drunk Dean Winchester, Gay Panic, Human Castiel, Imagination, M/M, Masturbation, Sexual Fantasy, ps. dean likes dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-27 01:13:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5027983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeshomodean/pseuds/yeshomodean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything’s getting out of control. Dean could swear he wasn’t gay; he had grown up with his father and his brother and in a manly environment. But still, the thought of Cas jerking off and with his name slipping through his delicious lips was the only thing that seemed to turn him on while he was having his daily shower wank.</p>
            </blockquote>





	3. Just Think of Me

**Author's Note:**

> As always, infinitely thankful to Kate (lovers_and_madmen) for being so supportive and nice and dealing with my shit! Heh.  
> This one was made in a rush, actually, but I'm pretty satisfied with the outcome.
> 
> Well, I'm a man of little words. Enjoy! Feedback is extremely appreciated.
> 
> (I'm on tumblr as idratherhavemyangel.tumblr.com)

_‘This goes beyond creepy’,_ Dean thought, letting go of his dick and tugging at his hair, frustrated.

He hadn’t exactly come to terms with the fact that he was _kinda, sorta, somehow, just a ‘lil bit_ attracted to his roommate; but he figured that if he just stopped thinking about it, it would be fine.

Except, he was thinking about it.

And it was not fine.

He let his forehead rest against the shower wall, maybe smacking it too hard, and took a deep breath.

 _This_ is why he didn’t like jerking off in the shower. In the comfort of his bedroom, he had his laptop, he could just put on some good ol’ porn and get to it. Not much thinking was involved, he just had to watch, and listen, and feel. Here, he had to concentrate. Which wasn’t exactly his forte. He had to think hard to be able to create a fantasy, and stick to it; otherwise the hot brunette that was sucking him off in his mind would turn into Mrs. Johnson, his teacher in 5th grade, and that was a whole new level of mood-killing.

But when he _did_ stick to his fantasy, hell, his imagination could do wonders.

The problem, at this moment, was that the blue eyes of the girl he was pounding into in his mind turned into the blue eyes of his roommate, the one that was sitting in his living room, reading a book and completely unaware of what was happening in Dean’s mind.

Usually, the people that appeared in Dean’s mind would kill his mood and make him quit touching himself.

It didn’t happen with Cas.

_Glassy blue eyes stared back at Dean, below them were flushed cheeks covered with light stubble and even lower, a parted mouth letting out delicious moans, pants and groans of his name. The rest of his body was spread out over Dean’s bed, his arms thrown over his head and his ankles on Dean’s shoulders. His chest was heaving and his swollen, red cock rested against his flat abdomen, so long it almost reached his navel.  And he was going crazy, damn, he was squirming and shaking, he turned into a complete mess taking Dean’s cock._

Dean shook his head, (reluctantly) dragging himself out of that fantasy, blinking repeatedly until it was over. Then he glanced at his groin, and let out a frustrated sigh at how hard he was.

One thing was to stumble across Cas jerking off, hearing and/or seeing him would turn anyone on, as if his lust was contagious. Dean felt he had an excuse. But, now, fantasizing about him? Beating it to the thought of him?

_‘Hell no.’_

He put his hands against the shower wall, and tried to summon another fantasy.

 _Two dark haired Asian ladies came up to roam their hands all over Dean’s torso, one standing in front of him and the other behind, and they just reached lower to Dean’s pelvis. The one on the front grabbed his dick, giving it slow tugs just to tease._ Dean got distracted by that, performing those movements with his own hand. _The other girl surrounded his waist to cup his balls._ Dean mimicked the action. _The first girl started stroking faster, tightening her fingers around his length and taking her time in teasing the head._ Both of his hands were occupied, one working his shaft and the other teasing his balls. _He could feel the heat beneath his skin covering him from head to toe. In his fantasy, Dean could see one of the girls, and appreciated her soft skin and round curves. But the body behind him was different, now, it felt rougher and hard against his back. Then, fingers that were on his balls reached further, beyond his perineum, and he started._

 _‘Easy there’,_ he thought, taking his own hand back to his balls.

 _Don’t act like it’s unexplored territory,_ a rough voice replied.

_Fantasy Dean turned around, and green met blue. Hello, Dean._

“Dammit!” Dean exclaimed, shaking his head again, resting his hands against the tiles in front of him.

A knock on the door made Dean jump out of his skin. “Is everything okay, Dean?” Castiel asked from the other side.

Dean turned off the water, still standing in the shower. “Uh- Yeah. ‘M fine, Cas!” He lied. “Just a slip, but it’s okay.”

There was silence for a moment, then Cas replied, sounding dubious, “All right. Don’t use all the hot water, please?”

“Yeah, right! I won’t. I’m almost done.”

Footsteps indicated Cas’ retreat, and Dean let out a breath he didn’t know was holding.

_‘Fuck you, Cas.’_

That thought was meant to express frustration, but the voice in his mind whispered, ‘ _That’s actually a good idea.’_

With a distressed sigh, he turned the shower back on and the handle to ‘cold’, then finished washing himself.

//

Dean got back from a night out really late.

It had been a rough week, with lots of books to read and stack after stack of homework, relief spread through his chest when he handed his last paper to the teacher.

He got home after class, jumped into his pijama pants and then into bed with plans of sleeping forever, when Cas knocked on his door.

“Are you all right?” Castiel asked from the doorframe.

Dean, as the highly developed human being he identified as, replied with a long groan.

“Relatable.” Cas chuckled. Dean heard him let out a sigh.

Dean propped himself up on his elbow turning to look at Cas from his spot on the bed. “It’s been a long week. ‘M just tired, man, ‘s okay.” Dean ran a hand over his hair, then he noticed the basket on Castiel’s hold. “Big plans for tonight?” He said, looking pointedly at the basket.

Castiel frowned and looked down at the basket, confused, and turned back to Dean saying, “No, I’m just doing some laundry...”

Dean huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes, then let his head fall back against the pillow. “’Kay, Cas, I’ll be here, unconscious, in case you need me or something.” Dean said as he closed his eyes.

“Goodnight, Dean.” Castiel turned off the light and closed the door.

Dean was just falling into the relaxed state of almost asleep... when he got the text from Jack.

**‘dude going 2 joe’s party wanna come?’**

Dean groaned, frustrated. _Hell yes_ , he wanted to go. But lack of sleep wouldn’t let him even type a reply without his eyes drooping.

 **‘cant. busy night @ home’** He replied, trying hard not to fall asleep before he could put away his phone.

**‘cmmon u gotta be there. booze n chicks not getting u outta bed?’**

_‘Fucking Jack’,_ Dean thought.

You would think it took more than that to convince him, and so did he, but before he knew it he was typing.

**‘getting dressed. see ya there’**

He threw on some casual clothes and got his wallet and keys, then thought about it again and left the keys, since he knew he would be in no state for driving.

As he was walking down the stairs, Castiel was coming up.

Castiel stopped on the spot and tilted his head to the side, squinting at Dean. “I thought you were going to sleep.”

“Yeah, I know, but my friend’s birthday party is tonight so... I’ll be back  early, anyways, don’t think I’ll last long on my feet.” Dean replied while continuing his way downstairs.

 

And that’s how he ended up drunk to the core and with a hard on that wasn’t gonna take care of itself.

Well, the hard on was because the chick he was about to bang had to go before she could get to Dean’s pants. Something about her friend puking in the middle of the living room or whatever. Dean was too wasted to hear her excuses properly.

So, yeah, it would be a night for his hand to cure his blue balls.

When he reached his bedroom, it took seconds for his clothes to fly across the room and for him to jump into bed. The clock on his bedside table said 3:08 am and Dean didn’t know how time passed so fast.

He lay on his back and heaved a sigh, feeling all his muscles relaxing against the mattress. He closed his eyes, ready for a long night of sleep... but his dick wasn’t on the same page.

“C’mmon,” Dean muttered to himself, tired and frustrated as always, looking down at his crotch.

And, well, now that he thought about it... he hadn’t jacked off in a while. Not since that time in the showe-

The same images that attacked him that last time popped up in Dean’s mind. _A vivid fantasy of Castiel writhing beneath his touch, bucking his hips in time with Dean’s thrusts, letting out a litany of moans and curses that sounded like the best kind of music Dean had ever heard. And he was so tight, blissfully tight in a way that Dean’s dick felt like it was in Heaven..._

 _‘Hey, cut the shit.’_ Dean thought, reacting late in his drunkeness.

 _‘What? You like it.’_ The voice in the back of his brain retorted.

_‘No, I don’t. He’s Cas and he’s a dude.’_

_‘Yeah. So?’_

_‘Not my thing.’_

_‘The brain downstairs doesn’t think the same.’_

Dean looked down again, finding his dick hard to the point of hurting, and he cursed under his breath.

A picture of Castiel spread out on the couch like Dean had found him some time ago, appeared in his mind.

_‘You’re drunk. You have an excuse. Just let it flow.’_

The voice was right. Dean wasn’t thinking clearly. He couldn’t control himself.

_‘Right.’_

His hand reached down to tease his cock, caressing it lightly, rubbing the head with his thumb and spreading precome over the shaft.

A scenario formed in Dean’s mind: _He was in the living room, sitting on the couch. Castiel was in front of him, in the middle of the room, wearing a cowboy hat and boots... because reasons. Along with those, he was wearing only a leather vest and jeans that made his ass look like it was sculpted by God himself. The fly of his pants was open and Dean could see the shape of his dick trapped in his boxers._

_Fuck, Dean was just as hard, and he was dying to get his hands on Cas, or himself at least, but just then he noticed his hands were tied to the couch._

_Castiel smirked, looking smug and satisfied at Dean’s frustration, and started walking towards Dean. He was quiet, and slow, as he straddled Dean’s lap.  He cupped Dean’s face in his hands and grazed his lips over Dean’s, but not really kissing him. Instead, he lead a trail of open-mouthed kisses along Dean’s jawline, then down his neck, where he started biting as well. Cas would take Dean’s skin into his mouth and suck it with such eagerness, sending overwhelming sensations through Dean’s nerves towards his groin. Meanwhile, Cas’ hands roamed over Dean’s chest, getting under his shirt and they were calloused and strong._

_Dean wanted to touch him. So bad. He strained against the ropes, but every time they just got tighter and Cas would let out a groan and bite down harder. That only made Dean do it again, repeatedly._

_When Cas started rolling his hips, Dean moaned like a whore. Castiel’s thrusts were slow but hard, as if he wanted to kill Dean,  putting the strength of his entire body on his pelvis. And he kept kissing and his hands kept roaming and Dean wanted to touch, make Cas feel the same, but all he could do was mouth at the tiniest bit of skin he got every time Cas leaned into him._

_And it was so frustrating and rewarding at the same time. Dean hated feeling restrained, like he was nothing more than a toy for Cas to rut against. But Cas was making it so good, and the noises he was making were so gorgeous, just like his lips felt on Dean._

_Eventually, Castiel moved back on Dean’s lap, and Dean protested as if he thought Cas was going to leave, but it was only Cas wanting to unbutton Dean’s pants and get his cock out._

_Oh. Okay._

_When Castiel held Dean’s dick in his hand, a rush of relief and pleasure overcame Dean’s body in its entirety. Cas gave it a few tugs, spreading the precome nicely all over the head, then got his own cock out of his boxers and rubbed it against Dean’s. Pure bliss, was what Dean felt. The hot weight of Cas’ erection on his own made him see stars. It got even better, when Cas wrapped his fist around both of them. His hand moved fast and rough, touching all the right places and tightening with each tug._

_Soon Castiel was talking, saying ‘Dean, Dean, Dean’ like a mantra under his breath, and then louder and louder as he rutted against Dean._

_Dean wasn’t even trying to be quiet. He couldn’t pronounce Cas’ name properly, but that’s what he was saying in his wanton murmurs. He could feel Cas’ breath coming ragged on his ear, where Cas started pouring promises that made Dean go crazier._

_“I’m gonna lick and suck and kiss every single bit of skin on your body. I’m gonna fuck myself with that big dick of yours, so hard, so good. And I’m gonna fuck you, Dean, I’m gonna pound your sweet ass into the mattress and you won’t walk for a week. I want to make you feel everything you’re afraid to try and make you love it.”_

 

And with a few last tugs, Dean shot his release over his own fist and abdomen, shouting through his orgasm and feeling the orgasm-induced high taking over his body.

After recovering his normal heart rate, and thanks to alcohol and exhaustion, he went out like a light.

 

Next morning, he was not only hung over and sore, but also ashamed.

He didn’t remember how he got home, or how he got naked, but he could remember with perfect details the fantasy that gave him one of the best orgasms he had ever had with only his hand.

Also, he didn’t remember leaving those clean towels on the bed right beside his feet last night.


End file.
